This Battle isn't Mine to Fight
by cold-insignificant-play
Summary: On a seemingly frivolous assignment to the world, Earth, Sora encounters Bernard, a troubled, South African schoolboy. What ensues is a tale of evil secrets as a new, dangerous conspiracy forces the Keyblade Master to step up once more.
1. Prologue

**Kingdom Hearts**

**Shadowy Strings of Fate**

**By cold-insignificant-play**

**PROLOGUE**

"I hate you," Bernard said softly without looking up.

Sora stood dumbfounded at the Secret Place's entrance, not knowing what to say.

His friend was sitting bare-chested in front of the Door without a Handle, his enflamed wings covering his arms.

Unlike the rest of the Islands, The Secret Place was the only area at which the fire had NOT spread.

The fire, caused by Sora's miserable and wretched looking friend.

"Bernard…why?" Sora asked tremulously after finding his voice in the seemingly deep oblivion of his chest.

"I hate you," Bernard replied still not looking up.

"Why do you hate me? WHY?" The floodgates holding back Sora's tears had opened up and emotion filled his voice, "I don't understand, Bernard! I thought we were friends? We've been through a lot, you and me! But…THAT?" he motioned to the exit meaning the destructive inferno that was raging outside "Why did you have to destroy my home? Why, why, WHY?" He ran to Bernard, sank on his knees and put his arms on his shoulders and shook them rapidly as he spoke and wept.

"I don't understand, Bernard Viljoen! I just don't understand," tears choked his voice, "I…."

His voice dried up and so he couldn't finish the sentence. He burst out in a fit of sobs and then buried his face in Bernard's shoulder.

Bernard didn't respond to this. He kept looking down at the ground as if there was an interesting looking bug crawling about.

A moment of silence followed between the two boys, broken only by Sora's sobs.

Then, as if possessed, Bernard screamed inhumanly and kicked Sora away from him with a tremendous force.

Sora flew back at a high velocity and hit one of the cave's chalk-covered walls. He slid down and sat upright in a daze, a batch of fresh tears still glistening on his face.

Bernard stood up slowly.

"I hate you," he said with much more strength and emphasis than before, "I will kill you and I will hold your severed head up for the world to see!"

Sora regained awareness and beheld his friend's new physique in terror.

The Chaos had been at work,

Bernard's chest had broadened and become more muscular and there was a scar that was dripping a sort of molten gold liquid that trickled down his abdomen. He wore only a pair tattered jeans and an ugly looking gash on his left leg. And then his skin...the normal, warm tanness had disappeared and an ashen grey pallor had taken its place. Iron claws replaced his nails and he clicked them together menacingly.

His kindly brown eyes were absent and were replaced by molten gold ones, the same colour as the liquid seething out of the wound on his chest. His hair had gone from brown to pitch, raven black.

And from his back, two large, majestic looking wings covered in flame, protruded.

"Wha…what has it done to you?" Sora asked wide-eyed, partly from awe, partly from terror.

Bernard didn't respond, he took his Keyblade that was stuck in the ground nearby and advanced menacingly to Sora.

"Bernard, stop!" Sora pleaded, "Think this through!"

"There's nothing more to think about," Bernard responded without emotion, not pausing, "You deserve to die!"

"You're mind is corrupted by the Chaos!" Sora tried negotiating, "It's not making you think straight."

"Nothing more to think about!" Bernard muttered, moving nearer without hesitation, "Nothing to say! Sora deserves to die!"

"Bernard, please! I don't want to fight you!"

"No use fighting. No use. I will kill you."

Bernard's Keyblade dragged behind him, leaving a trail of dust puffing up from the ground.

Sora scrambled to his feet and tried to escape back through the tunnel but Bernard simply clicked his claws and a wall of flame appeared at the exit.

"No use escaping. No use fighting. Sora dies now."

Sora sighed deeply looking down, then resolutely turned around to face his hostile friend and let his Keyblade appear in his hand.

"Fine," he frowned, "Let's fight."

...

_Author's Note: Just a little taste of what's to come. See! I keep my promises!_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Fiery, red hair**

_Preliminary A/N: Alright, Chapter 1 is up and noooooo revieeeewwwwwsssss yeeeeettttt….._

_Ah well, that's not a big deal, I've still got my inspiration to keep the chapters coming._

_I suppose the Prologue of a story isn't something to bank upon, so we'll see from this chapter onwards._

_Please let me know if my writing style is too verbose or too 'frilly' to your liking._

_Oh, and since the guys at FanFiction haven't yet responded to my email concerning the difficulty of inserting paragraphs, I will use a combination of symbols to announce the end and beginning of a new one._

_I LOVE my adjectives, colloquialisms and metaphors. It's a bad habit, I know_

_Enjoy!_

…

_**6 months earlier**_

_**Heldedaad Boys School**_

_**Bloemfontein**_

_**South Africa**_

_**The Firstborn World**_

Bernard Viljoen woke up with a start.

It wasn't much, just a quick jolt and eyes that jumped open, which heralded his arrival at the gates of consciousness.

But it was enough to keep him from slipping back into sleep.

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The familiar image of his nightmare was still fresh in his mind and for a moment he let out a small gasp as he saw a shadow move across his bed.

But then he realized that it was only a tree directly outside the window that was waving with a rather strong gust of wind.

He sighed with relief and sank back into his bed, but didn't go back to sleep.

It had been a week.

A week filled with the same nightmare every night.

Bernard didn't know what it meant; the recurrence was possibly a result of some inner conflict. Mandy, the school counselor, told him that.

But Mandy didn't understand. She already told him things that he knew and didn't quite explain to him how to overcome them. She understood the guilt he was going through but didn't demonstrate how to suppress it.

Bernard sighed once again and sat up. He reached for his phone that was lying under his pillow and switched it on.

After waiting 5 minutes for the phone to start up, he peered at the top-left corner on which the time was displayed.

It was 3 am.

/\\\\\\\\\\\

He wanted to groan but didn't for fear of waking the other boys he was sharing the dormitory with.

And he knew how irate boarders could become if they were robbed of their precious sleep.

/\\\\\\\

Suddenly he felt an urge to relieve his bladder, so he quietly slipped out of bed and padded across the room.

However, his voyage was stopped short by a pair of odd sneakers, obscured by darkness, that were lying in his path.

Cursing quietly, he stumbled and made an acquaintance with the floor with a loud thud.

He sat up and spun his head to see if this moment's small cacophony provoked a sleeping dog to wake up.

Not one did, so he quietly stood up and brushed himself off. Taking care not to trip over any more bits and bobs, he tread quietly to the door.

/\\\\\\

The corridors of Rothmann House, the boarding house he was staying in on the school's premises, was extremely creepy and desolate at times like these. Some of the younger boarders, in the same position as he was at that moment, said they had seen white specters dancing on the first landing of the stairs leading up to the senior dorms.

He had lived in Rothmann House (or Rotties, as it was known amongst the boarders) long enough to know that it was simply the white curtains that the wind annoyed.

However, at that time, they contained certain…animosity. As if the 'ghosts' were real and dancing a rough _langarm _to the beat of inaudible music.

Bernard stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up to the window and contemplating the reality of the strange state of the curtains. All the while a childish fear of the dark built up in him.

He shuddered, shook the feeling off and walked towards the bathrooms.

/\\\\\\\

Again, he felt a strange aversion to the dark seeping through his skull as he reached the bathroom.

The door was open, but as black as pitch inside.

Like a gaping mouth, housing untold terrors.

Bernard stalled a bit; the light switch was just around the right jamb and he so desperately needed to relieve himself. All he could do was just reach around and switch the light on; he need not even take a step inside.

But he so needed to go.

Carefully, he wound his arm around the corner and searched the smooth plaster surface. There.

/\\\\\\

The almost blindingly bright light banished what used to be a somewhat viscous darkness into nonexistent corners.

And what childish fear of unknown monstrosities that lurked in the darkness which Bernard possessed vanished with it.

So he took a deep breath and strode bravely into the bathrooms.

He opened one of the toilet stalls and answered the call of nature.

/\\\\\\\\\\\

Afterwards, he flushed, pulled up his boxers and walked to one of the 13 basins lined up in front of each other.

Turning on the tap and plugging the drain, he let hot water flow in the basin until it was halfway full.

He lifted up his head to take a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror hanging above the basin before opening the cold water tap a tad and closing it again.

He dipped his finger in the then full basin and confirmed its thermal suitability.

Bernard cupped his hands and filled it up. Bringing it to his face, he splashed some of the liquid on to his face and looked up at his reflection again.

/\\\\\\\

His dark, auburn hair was even more darkened with wetness, and some droplets of water ran down a matted, stray lock on his small forehead.

Two red rimmed, brilliant brown wide-set eyes stared back critically at their owner before scanning his other aspects.

A well defined, handsome aquiline nose populated the centre of his face and sloped down to a pair of small, pale pink lips.

He then looked down at his bare torso, since he never slept with a shirt.

It was scrawny, but at the same time also rather athletic owing to some hours of intense working out at the gym.

It was rather strange for him, he thought, to continue with his workout schedule, since he had left his rugby two months prior. When….it happened.

He shuddered at the thought of that cataclysmic incident responsible for all his guilt, nightmares and all the painful emotions in between.

Bernard pulled the plug and switched off the bathroom's light.

Darkness reigned supreme once more.

/ /\\\\\\

He walked the corridors back to his dormitory. The dancing apparitions on the landing didn't bother him anymore, he just ignored them.

Entering the room, he padded back to his bed and crept under the covers.

And began to weep until his pillow was sodden with tears.

/\\\\\\

_Fire, yes fire._

_Alone alone. Must run. Must escape._

_Fire!_

_People are running. People are escaping._

_From what?_

_I must run, I must hide._

_It will kill me._

_What's that?_

_An aquarium._

_He's inside._

_HE'S FLOATING INSIDE!_

_HE'S DROWNING!_

_I must help him!_

_He's trying to SCREAm! But only bubbles come out._

_I MUST help him!_

_The darkness underneath him is growing._

_What's that?_

_It looks like…hands._

_Hands made out of shadow!_

_It's grabbing him by the ankles and dragging him under._

_DRAGGI NG HIM INTO THE DARKNESS!_

_NO! I must SAVE him! Oh no! Oh NO!...I must…NO! REGARDT!_

_He's gone._

_Run, yes run._

_Run into guilt, misery and self-loathing._

_You are hopeless._

_You could've saved him!_

_No I couldn't!_

_Yes!_

_No!_

_RUN!_

_What's that?_

_It's a hooded figure._

_Who are you?_

_/\\\\\\_

_He removes his hood._

_Darkness yes, darkness._

_Black eyes, black heart._

_He has no heart._

_Who are you?_

_I am you he says._

_No you're not. I have a heart._

_I am what you are. Don't fight fate._

_He punches. OUCH THAT HURTS!_

_He takes something in his hand._

_Keyblade._

_Whose memories are these?_

_Keyblade_

_Keyblade_

_KEY!_

_/\\\\\\_

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Static._

_/\\\\\_

"Yes, let your anger grow." 

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_A/N: Chapter 1 done. Again, I'd really appreciate criticism of any kind. _


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"Sleep well, Bernard?" Harmse asked at breakfast in the mess hall the next morning.

Bernard stopped fiddling around with the spoon in his empty bowl and looked up at Harmse as well as the other face he was sharing the table with.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Harmse asked whether you slept well," Mikhail piped up.

Bernard looked at the both of them then back down to his bowl.

"Fine I guess."

Harmse and Mikhail looked at each other with quizzical glances before shrugging and continuing with their breakfast.

* * *

Both Brian Harmse and Mikhail van Dyk were the only boys in the school whom Bernard considered friends.

Mikhail was a lanky 17 year old who had inherited his Czech mother's smooth, marble complexion. His intelligent, cerulean eyes reflected hours upon hours of poring through encyclopaedias, treatises and other tomes of intellectual significance. Apart from being a typical straight-A student, he was hardly uptight and snobbish and had a really easy-going, if not cynical, personality.

Harmse, on the other hand, was a total jock. Ambitious, impulsive, outspoken and a sweet-talking womanizer, he visited the school's gymnasium religiously and was an avid supporter of sports' supplements being freely distributed to younger sportsmen like him. He was well built and tan and had a rather express attraction to the opposite sex. One that he wasn't scared to show.

* * *

A few moments of silence followed between the boys as they finished their breakfast. Harmse broke the ice.

"So, I hear that Lizè's throwing a party at her farm this weekend. Might be worth checking out."

"Lizè?" Mikhail asked, raising his eyebrow "As in _that_ Lizè?"

"She's not like _that_! She just...enjoys the finer things in life."

"I'm not so sure I want to go. Last time at one of her _kuiers_ they spiked the drinks pretty bad. I really didn't enjoy the mother-lode of all hangovers I had the morning after."

"Oh come on! Stop being such a wet blanket. It'll be FUN! I mean, there'll be chicks, and we get to sleep over! Isn't that like score or what?"

Mikhail raised both his eyebrows and stared blankly at Harmse.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Harmse laughed mockingly, "I forgot! You're not really into chicks!"

"Harmse! Not here!" Mikhail hissed through his teeth.

Harmse didn't stop: "Sorry, bru, the only dudes there will be that pudgy brother of hers and that weird gardener..."

A quick, sharp jab to his right arm stopped him short.

"_Eina!_ That hurt!" Harmse rubbed the sore limb, "You really need to chill! I was only kidding."

"There's plenty more where that came from," Mikhail said and brandished his plastic butter knife menacingly, "If you just so much as accidentally out me here, this knife will have a new resting place. Your eye."

"Jeez, okay, chill would you?"

He looked at Bernard while still rubbing his arm vigorously.

"You're mighty quiet, Bernie. As always. Do you want to go to that party this weekend?"

Bernard looked up at Harmse and shook his head.

"Dude, you really need to get out of that shell you're living in. Get out and enjoy life."

"I wouldn't necessarily put participating in every moral vice known to man and enjoying life in the same category," Mikhail chipped in.

"Shuddup! I wasn't talking to you. You're gay, so you don't really have a reason to judge," he turned back to Bernard, "As I was saying before Edward Cullen here interrupted me, why don't you want to go?"

Bernard shrugged.

"Ah, I see. So it's the silent treatment is it? Thanks a lot, Bernie, appreciate it bud."

"You're a real compassionate being, aren't you?" Mikhail said.

"What? Dude? I'm didn't say anything wrong."

Mikhail just shook his head.

"Dude, look at him! He's the worst case of depro I've ever seen. He needs to forget what happened in the past and...OW!"

Mikhail had given him another jab on the right arm and glared at him warningly not to discuss the matter further.

Wordlessly, Bernard stood up and took his cereal bowl to the kitchen.

* * *

School started off just as any other day for Bernard. It opened with a rather boring Biology class in which the teacher discussed the fundamentals of Mendel's genetic experiments. Accounting was next and after forty minutes of crediting and debiting, English Second Additional language took the spot. It included a rather bland lecture on Athol Fugard, a playwright whom his English teacher seemed to revere highly.

During the transition between the last two classes of the day, Mikhail caught up and walked alongside him.

"Bernard," he said, "About this morning, I'm really sorry if Harmse rubbed a little more salt in the wounds."

"You don't have to apologise, Mikhail," Bernard replied, "I don't take offence to what Harmse says anymore."

"It's just; I'm really worried about you. And even though Harmse might be an ass at times, I know he is as well. We don't like seeing you like this."

"Pretend I'm not there then."

Mikhail sighed and the two friends trudged on in silence in the crowd of schoolboys milling around on their way to classes. After a while, he stopped Bernard and stood in front of him.

"Bernard, please, you can't go on like this. You know that you're broken, and you need to understand that I don't blame you for being so. I really care about you and I want to help you. You need to stop bottling all these emotions up and open your mouth."

"Ye gods! You sound just like Mandy! I never thought you of all people would be capable of such sentimental trash," Bernard snapped back suddenly.

Mikhail was taken aback to this retort and shook his head.

They walked further in silence until they stopped near the junction where they would part ways to their respective classes. Mikhail was about to leave when Bernard spoke up.

"I'm sorry about what I said just now."

Mikhail stopped and looked back while Bernard walked towards him. He put his hand firmly on Mikhail's shoulder and looked him in square in the eyes.

"Mikhail, understand this, you don't need to be my 24/7 shoulder to cry on. I've already told you everything and I've already exhausted both our tear-reservoirs countless times. These emotions I feel are things I need to deal with alone. Nobody can do it for me. And in so doing, I need to deal with them in the way I think best. Don't feel guilty about not being a good friend. You've already done everything you can but this time I'll need to fight alone. You can try to help, but you won't accomplish anything. Sorry."

Mikhail grabbed Bernard's hand firmly and nodded. Bernard could see a singular tear accumulating in his left eye.

He let go of Mikhail's shoulder.

"There's just...one thing, though."

"What?"

"Back in Grade 8, when I was still hating myself for being gay, I thought that my future had already come crashing down on me. I didn't like the life that I had 'chosen'. That same fateful day, when I came out to you, I told you that it was the only reason I was searching for to kill myself. Do you remember?"

Bernard paused a while, thinking back. He nodded solemnly.

"Well, when you say that I've done everything I could, you're wrong. I haven't done nearly enough what you've done for me as a friend. One day, I WILL pay the debt I owe you in full. It might not be today, but that day will come. I promise. "

Bernard smiled feebly.

"Thank you, Mikhail."

With this, he hurriedly walked towards Chemistry.

* * *

_A/N: AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH Still struggling with paragraphs! If anybody can help me out here, please do!_


End file.
